


What Binds Us

by Cinaed



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_fic_contest, F/M, Pre-Canon, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-15
Updated: 2010-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a moment, she lets herself imagine it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Binds Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is set pre-series, with spoilers for the Ishval arc. The title and excerpts come from the poem "For What Binds Us" by Jane Hirschfield.

  
_There are names for what binds us:_  
strong forces, weak forces.  


The glass is cold against Riza's skin; droplets of condensation bead her fingertips even after she sets the drink down. She has been drinking steadily for the past hour, enough downed shots to lower her defenses, but not enough to forget that this line of thinking is dangerous.

Still, for a moment she lets herself imagine it, the way his mouth would feel against hers, the curve of his mouth smug after the initial surprise. He would-- no, Riza has not drunk enough to let her mind wander down this path any further. That way, madness lies. 

Another sip of her drink, and Riza remembers him as a scrawny teenager, all lanky limbs and knowledge-hungry eyes, devouring every word from her father like gospel. Time and Ishval's horrors have shaped him into a man with his own opinions and desires -- she can trace the lines those hard-earned lessons have carved into his features, at the corners of his eyes and mouth -- but deep inside, she knows he still yearns for knowledge, the craving sublimated only by his determination to become Fuhrer. 

Her glass is empty. She frowns at it, reaches for the bottle. She has just started to pour when the phone rings. It's loud in the quiet solitude of her too-small apartment (so different from her father's mansion, with its empty, echoing rooms), but she doesn't startle. 

"Hawkeye," she says into the receiver. 

His laugh is low and teasing. "This is how you're spending your last night of freedom? Home alone? I'm disappointed in you." 

A corner of her mouth curls upwards. She quells the smile, even though he's not here to see. "I'm relaxing," she answers. Tomorrow, she will don her uniform for the first time since her leave was granted and return to her duties. 

There's a moment of silence. It lingers, the empty space filling up with something she can't quite define, until she shakes her head and says, "Did you need anything?" 

He hesitates, and instantly the slow, easy feeling of intoxication vanishes, replaced by sharp concern. But then he laughs a little; there's a self-mocking quality to the sound, like he knows what he's about to say is ridiculous. "Just making sure you'll be there tomorrow." 

She frowns into the phone. "I will," she says slowly.  _I told you. I will watch your back._  The words don't escape her lips, but she thinks he hears them anyway. He's always been adept at hearing what she keeps locked inside herself. 

"Good," he says brusquely, and then adds in a sly tone, "Are you certain you don't want to paint the town, Lieutenant? I happen to know a great little place where the music and food--"

"Goodnight, sir," Riza says, and hangs up before he can say anything more. She's smiling despite herself. She looks out into the night sky. Clouds cloak the stars; even the moon is hidden. 

Tomorrow, she thinks, it will rain. Still, it's going to be a good day.

 _And when two people love each other_  
see how it is like a  
scar between their bodies,  
stronger, darker, and proud;  
how the black cord makes of them a single fabric  
that nothing can tear or mend.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
